Family 2
by juliasejanus
Summary: Alex has left school. What could possibly go wrong during his year off?
1. Chapter 1

Tom glared at James as the three boys dressed in their new suits. Alex grinned at the animosity and snippy antagonism between his two friends. Tom not forgiving James for being James really. The young German had a gained the reputation of straying easily. He had gone through four girlfriends since breaking up with Alex. Not that Alex minded as with each break up James sought out Alex for comfort. Alex was a sucker for comfort sex, well it was the only sex he got. Each encounter was relayed to Tom who told Alex he was a fool to left James play with his heart, but Alex explained it wasn't like that, fuck buddies was the term James used. The concept was an anathema to Tom, who despite the mine field of his parent's marriage, was still very conservative and straight laced regarding relationships. Not that Tom minded Alex and James playing for both sides, just the frequency they'd swing from friends to lovers and back again.

The three boys patiently waited down stairs for Marius to stop panicking and get his act together. The wedding venue was half an hour away and they had to get there early, even if they all knew Blythe was going to be fashionably late. The wedding was small and low key. Alex had been runner for much of the preparations, having taken his A levels in January rather than June. Blythe worked in London and emailed and texted every day, only visiting at weekends. James was still recovering from his final semester at Gymnasium in Dusseldorf. James had finished school in Germany after deciding to go to the local state school moving back in with his father and spend his holidays with his mother. Blythe and Marius had dated seriously for a year before getting engaged last summer.

Alex had settled into boarding school routine after the incident in Wales, taking up drama, triathlons, karate and book clubs to stave off boredom, when not surfing. He tried not to think on the incident in Year 12, that was just a practical joke after some girls decided to straighten Alex out. That stunt had been too close to the bone, but then again Alex had a very black sense of humour.

Last summer had been spent in San Francisco and London. The Pleasure's were still happy to include Alex in their family. Tom was his own man and had a room in a shared house in Vauxhall. How Tom longed for a house of his own. He worked hard, as well as finishing his apprenticeship. He saved and invested. Tom Harris, the driven young entrepreneur, was on his way to get rich or die trying. Being penniless sucked.

Alex watched Marius check his watch for the fiftieth time, asking Alex that he had the rings fir the sixteenth time, and then they all piled into the boring Volvo V40 for the drive to Redruth. So the four guys piled into the Volvo, Marius was so preoccupied he did not complain with Alex driving nor Tom's choice of music.

Blythe looked wonderful in a designer linen suit, the whole wedding was smart but not traditional as it was the second wedding for both bride and groom. It was a small ceremony followed by a fantastic five course banquet. The hotel had promised no press, a wonder in this day and age. Blythe had not even been tempted to sell the deal to hello, preferring for a short press to be released once she and Marius were on their honeymoon in Jamaica. She had wound down her publicity work, modelling and acting since Christmas.

Alex had two roles during the day, handing over the rings and a short speech detailing James and himself acting as matchmakers. Alex stood and surveyed the room, he was nervous as this was the only speech.

"Hello and congratulations to Mr and Mrs Beckett or Uncle M and Auntie Blythe, this wedding making James and I officially cousins. The two of us became fast friends in 2001, when we were both committed trouble makers, trapped in an exclusive boarding school in France. I lasted less than two weeks there, a record for a stay at any school for me, I don't know James record but we were a right pair between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. So, at fifteen, I came to be under Marius' dubious care and he managed ti guide me to manage two years uninterrupted schooling, taking my exams and actually passing them. I must say Marius likes a good curry, cannot stand rap music and is the most laid back deputy headmaster I've ever met and I've met a few. So Marius tamed me and in the process met James' mother, the lovely Blythe. Their meeting was initially via a series of phone calls over me disappearing. They met during my subsequent stay at St Dominic's Hospital and somehow, Marius invited Blythe and her son James to come and stay during the summer holidays. The rest was history in the making. Blythe had to experience the almost criminal living conditions in a small three bedroomed house with one bathroom shared with three men. Marius saved the day with his organisational skills and a bathroom rota which left the faciities free for the lovely Blythe for 95% of the time. We had to shower and shave in two minutes, I kid you not. James had already made the bet that this squalor would see his mother running back to London. He lost his bet, by the end of the week.." at this Alex winked in a comedic manner.. "Cupid's arrow had struck. We became a mismatched, dysfunctional and cross country family. Last Christmas Marius asked me to be his best man.. the stress of everything was obviously getting to him, I should not be trusted with anything, no matter what glowing references my previous foster parents, the Pleasures say, but amazingly there has been no fights, fall outs, ski chases or fires. If your asking about these incidents it was just bad timing on my part, wrong place wrong time, honestly." Alex took a breath and a sip of water. "I know I'm meant to be telling embarrassing stories abut Marius. The most embarrassing moments have been Marius being kind and understanding dealing with my complete paranoia. I'm making a big thing actually calling him uncle. For the first eighteen months I told no-one we were actually family, as in related not a social services placement. I expected to be orphaned again, after loosing my parents, my uncle then my first permanent foster parent I was a bit jaded, not wanting to jinx anything. Sad huh. Marius played along, he's been the best really. So, into Marius' nice neat ordered, monk-like existence wandered the wonderful mercurial infuriating force of nature that is Blythe McCudden and here we are. However, just to let you all know, this is not happy families, just happy ever after for the newly weds. Marius and Blythe have volunteered to be complete do-gooders and are going to teach in Africa attached to Unicef. James is soon to start studying finance and banking at the Sorbonne and I'm off for a year off before reading Eastern European Studies at London. For those who know, I'll hopefully be sharing a flat with Tom in South London. So to the future, pastures knew, peace and happiness. Please raise your glasses to the bride and groom."


	2. Chapter 2

Tom watched as his best friend finished clearing up his room, the end of Alex's life shared with Marius, and packed it into his Landrover. Alex had whittled his belongings down to his surfing stuff, a rucksack, suitbag and holdall. His books and DVD's had either sold or placed in storage with Blythe and Marius' belongings. Alex had not asked about his and Ian's belongings from Chelsea and was loathed to go to the bank to enquire. Today, he and Tom were off for a road trip, driving back to London the scenic way, camping out and enjoying a few days of freedom rather than a manic drive straight there. Then, Tom was going back to work and Alex was going to just enjoy life a bit, traveling, working if he needed, in September he would come back to London and sort out accommodation and work to save enough money to tide him over.

As soon as they hit the A30, Tom fell asleep. Alex pulled off at the sign for St. Austell. their first stop was going to be Port Tallon. Alex's thoughts as he drove south were not of his first mission but his dear departed grandparents, whose bequest meant he had a car and enough money to contemplate going to uni and living in London again. Carl Beckett had set up a trust fund from the sale of the house in Cambridge and a lifetime of savings. Six months after Marie Christine Becket broke her ankle in late August 2002, she fell and broke her hip, dying three weeks later of pneumonia, never having left hospital. Carl never really go over her death and retreated into their house to live off meals on wheels with the care worker coming three times a week. Alex had gone to stay with Carl last summer and old man had died peacefully in his sleep at the end of that month. The Beckett's as life long savers and with a house and a range of antiques had left quite a nest egg for Alex, all in trust until he was 25 but with provision to pay for his university education and to provide a small income during the intervening years. Carl had insisted Alex go on to further education, sitting around surfing for the rest of his life, as Alex had stated as his post-school ambition, was not an option.

Tom snored as Alex pulled over to take a closer look over to the tin mine, the secret entrance into Sayle's factory. Since coming back from California, Alex had analysed his behaviour and tried to stop himself acting automatically as the spy, integrating himself into situations, modifying his personality to fit in. He preferred being an isolated loner. He even surfed alone, never on the popular beaches or following the crowds. He had friends, the few aware of his past. He was too nervous of connecting with anyone new.

Tom looked up and stretched "Lunch time?"

"Nearly, fish and chips. Its about ten minutes into the village." The fishing port was still as picturesque. Alex had noted the factory still produced electronics for a phone company. No more Sayle Industries. Stormbreakers a long forgotten storm in a tea cup.

Tom watched Alex. Quiet Alex, with his sad eyes. The Londoner wondered why his friend had detoured to stop here. To reminisce, to connect with the past? Tom was sure Alex was OK, not about to have a relapse or have a flashback. Alex was moving back to London. Tom started talking about everything and nothing. Alex smiled and listened, adding the occasional word of agreement or sharp barb of wit.

As they approached the camp site near Glastonbury Tor, Alex started to speak, adding to the puzzle that was his life. Facts he had shared with Marius and no one else. "Just after my 18th birthday I got a call from the bank."

"Shit Alex! They weren't after you to go work for them again?" exclaimed Tom as he was abruptly shocked by Alex's revelation.

"No.. nothing like that. The Russians were asking after me. I was.. am viewed as a bit of a hero, there. For my majority, they wanted to give me a shiny bit of metal. I went up to the Russian embassy for a small reception. It was completely surreal. Well, since the Ruskies gave me an award, the Americans jumped on the band wagon, then the Australians, and the French and the Indians. I even got a George Cross. So I have a box full of tacky decorations." Alex was unphased by these reminders of 2001/2002. It was all a bit surreal. Alex Rider was now a nobody, an irrelevance. He would never be able to join up or work for MI6 officially not with his mental health record now.

"Medals? They all gave you medals?" Tom could not imagine any occasion for Alex to wear the decorations when the operations had cost him personally so much.

"Yeah, stupid huhh. 'Cause I excepted the bling from Moscow I could not refuse the others." Alex pulled into the camp site. The conversation on hold as they sorted themselves out.

The two boys lay down after pitching the tent and unrolling their bedding. Alex stared at the polyester dome. "You know Harry Dixon, you met him at my graduation. Came in that bad suit."

"Yeah, said he was an old friend of yours. Bit scary." The man had looked at Tom like he was a worm.

"He's the SAS sergeant at Brecon. I've been invited to his retirement do in two weeks. I'm going to wear my medals." Alex had a rueful smile on his face. "Do you want to come as my guest."

"You're asking me to be your date. Invite a girl, Alex. You remember girls. Most would like seeing all those soldiers and partying." Tom shook his head. He would get Alex to relax and enjoy himself. The ex-spy's reluctance to talk to anyone was the one un-nerving habit Alex still had. Completely closed off and mistrustful of all outside his circle. Tom could really not blame Alex, not after the incident with the bitches at his school.

Alex continued with "I thought you might like to meet Snake. He'll definitely be there. I'm not sure about any of the others from K Unit."

Tom rolled over to look at Alex. "No chance of taking Sabina?"

"She already said no way." Alex smiled at her forceful reaction to Alex even being in touch with those people.

"If you want me to go, I'll go." Tom would suffer another boring official ceremony for his best friend. Being polite and making small talk was tedious, even if the food was good and the drink flowed.

"I won't force you. I'll go stag. Not my idea of a good night. Harry has been a friend. I'll get to meet his family, which should be a laugh."


	3. Chapter 3

Sergeant Harry Dixon had lived in a plain three bedroomed semi in Brecon, his home for over ten years. He had enjoyed being an instructor/administrator for Special Forces training rather than in the thick of it. He had done his twenty-two years in the Army. Three years with the Rifles, the rest in the SAS. He spoke German and Russian and had served all over the world. Life had been good. The one thing that made the man stand apart was that Harry had never married. The Army was his life. He planned to continue working as a security specialist, he already had contacts with ex-soldiers who had moved over to be body guards and hired muscle. The dour Yorkshireman was still as fit as he had been at eighteen, he could still outrun and outsmart the recruits even at over forty.

The one thing that had changed over the past two years was his tentative mentoring and friendship with the one ex-trainee who should never have undergone Special Forces Training. Alex Rider was no longer a kid. The trials the young man had undergone meant he would never join the army or serve with regiment like his dad, the kid would fail his medical, one bullet wound to the chest would see any soldier discharged.

Harry's house seemed very full with his sister there with her two kids. Harry had been a surrogate father figure for Lyn and Joe, helping Margo out after her ex had run off without looking back. Helping out Alex had been more seeing a fellow soldier through a rough patch than acting as a dad. Alex struck him as the type who needed friends rather than a surrogate family. The kid was an orphan. Alex had been quite open about his past during his second visit to Brecon. Harry had felt like stirring things up at his retirement dinner by inviting Cub, the black sheep of his training days. The kid had surprised them all by never backing down nor giving in. Cub was due to arrive today with the dinner tomorrow. Hopefully the young man would be sporting a decent haircut. Most boys these days looked a right state, pierced and tattooed all over.

Alex pulled into the quiet street and parked up. He stood on the doorstep with his holdall and suit-bag listening to a loud and boisterous household within. Harry answered the door and beckoned his guest in.

"Hi Harry, thanks for inviting me."

"My pleasure, Alex. Come and meet the family." Alex left his bags in the hall and was shown into the neat and tidy lounge/diner. Harry stood and introduced the three other guests, "My sister Margo and my niece Lyn and Nephew Joe. I'm afraid your bunking with Joe." Alex watched the teenager scowl at him. "Alex will show you his scars, they're even better than mine."

"Cool" said the kid.

It was now Alex who was sporting the scowl.

Margo switched off the TV and Harry brought in a tray of tea, cake and biscuits. "Glad you got a haircut, Alex. I was afraid I'd have to get Margo to spruce you up. She did mine." Alex was impressed Harry's hair was about two millimetres longer than the last time he'd seen him.

"You look good Harry, for an old man that is" said Alex cheekily as he was handed a cup of tea.

"Less of the old. Moving on. Pastures new. Got a job lined up in France. Personal Security though an agency. Pay is about three times what I get as an army instructor. Ten years I'll settle down and do something like your uncle. Work of a charity and help out."

Margo smiled and asked politely, "So Alex what do you do?"

"I'm looking for work at the moment. I had a few days agency work last week, office work. I'd ideally like to do some translation work. I plan to do languages at uni next year, I just can't decide if its going to be French, Spanish or Russian."

"Are you fluent in all three?" Alex took in the details of Margo. Soft dark bobbed hair, with a few strands of grey, laughter lines on her face. She could be a twin or very similar in age to her brother. Same blue-grey eyes. Similar but different. Alex had caught himself analyzing his surroundings as he entered the house, noting the exits, solid wood front door with spy-hole, double glazed windows. Open views to front side and rear.

"Yeah, also in German. My Japanese and Italian need work though." Alex smiled and noted the family photos on the mantle. There had been no photos in Ian's house. Alex only got a photo of the two of them together in a frame after Ian died. He had three photos of his dad, none taken before his mid-20's. Nothing of Ian and John's childhood.

Alex listened into the family banter, happy to eat cake, matching Joe slice for slice, before enquiring "Harry, does the regiment have an archive?"

"I'm not sure, all secret stuff is not accessible." Harry was unsure what Alex was asking for. No current or recent personnel files were available except with authorisation and security clearance. Harry was unsure just what clearance Cub had. It was likely to be higher than his own.

"My dad, John Rider served mid seventies to 1982. I'm just wondering if he had any mates."

"There's an old soldier's network. I'll put a message in for you. They'll be a few from that era still in contact. In fact I think the secretary will be at the do tomorrow night, Ellard, Tom Ellard. I'll introduce you."

Harry then laid back against his favourite chair. "We're out for a curry tonight. Hope that suits, Alex?"

"I love a good curry. My gran grew up in India. Born in Lucknow. Her dad was in the Indian Army. She made a mean Vindaloo and really great spiced scrambled eggs as well. Maybe next year I'll get to go and visit there for a bit."

"Sounds like a plan. Joe show Alex upstairs. Let me know if you need an ironing board to press your suit. Its in the utility, the iron on the wall. I normally iron in here but as we're a full house, we'll have to improvise. Boys are using the downstairs facilities, has a shower. The girls have taken over the bathroom upstairs. I can't think of any other house keeping at the moment. I think its a few hours until our reservation so, how about a walk out to see the sights."

It was then that Lyn piped up "Sights what sights. Brecon is even more dull than Huddersfield."

"Oh, Lyn. Its nice and quiet, lovely and peaceful. I'll miss our visits when you move abroad, Harry."

"I'm only renting the place out. I haven't decided to sell yet. Maybe you could move here, Margo and I could come visit?"

Both kids then let out a long "Noooooooo!"


	4. Chapter 4

Alex took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. Blythe would be proud of how good he looked in this tux and bowtie. Both were scavenged from a charity shop in of all places in Marlborough. Designer and everything, which fit surprisingly well. Alex thought back to the last time he's warn black tie, the New Years Eve Party in Scotland with Desmond McCain. The ex-spy doubted tonight would end with a splash in the drink, but who knows.

Harry was stood in the kitchen giving his regimental jacket one last brush, the coat resplendent with twenty years worth of good conduct, service and bravery awards.

Alex coughed and pulled out the box he now kept his medals in. "Umm Harry, I'm a bit unsure if its exactly kosher to wear these?"

Harry came over and opened the tin lid. He pulled out the cases one and a time to look at their contents. "I had not realised they'd recognised your courage and sacrifice". All the medals were sat in a row, Russian, American, British, Australian and Indian. "Nice set."

"The Russian were after giving me a medal in 2001, I finally agreed this year. Everyone else jumped on the band wagon not to look bad." Alex looked at his feet when he said this, feeling sad and guilty at the same time.

Harry took out the russian medal and then proceeded to attach each in a nice line on Alex's jacket. "You earned these. Wear them with honour. I know what they cost you but thats the rub with medals. Most of the people I know with these type of awards suffered losses and inhuman situations to get them. Tonight they'll know it wasn't a picnic for you. That American medal is an Intelligence Star, everyone you meet will know you were a spook and a damn good one. They'll know it was black ops because you're just eighteen now. It was wrong of MI6 to use you like they did but you survived and you always did your best."

"Sometimes your best isn't enough. Jack still died, my friend Tom got hurt, Sabina kidnapped." Alex did not add that the assassin Yassen Gregorovich died for him. Yassen the one adult in that world who wanted Alex out and having a normal life.

"Alex, that part of your life almost destroyed you. Live a long and happy life thats what your parents and Jack would have wanted." Harry gave Alex a pat on his upper arms, looking into the younger mans eyes, making sure he was OK. "Right I have to chivvy my sister along now, the car will be here in five."

Alex was surprised as their names were called as they entered, Alex escorting in Margo as Harry was the guest of honour. The room was filled with red, dark blue and dark green dinner jackets for the military and a few men in civvies like Alex. There was a lot of bling on show. Alex made small talk with Margo and then maneuvered over to talk to Snake and his wife.

After the introductions the two ladies excused themselves to powder their noses. Snake chuckled and stated "Jesus Cub, look at all that brass...you are advertising you're a spook to everyone here. Two intelligence stars, when did you work for the CIA?"

"Classified, you know that Snake." smirked Alex.

"Does Harry know the details?" asked the intrigued dark haired medic.

"Some not all. I kept quiet about my time in Venice." continued Alex enigmatically.

"Venice?" Snake then took a sip of wine. Alex had ignored the trays of drinks as they had been offered.

"Long story, I was stupid but 14 year olds have those moments. I ran away. It didn't do me any good, I just saved the day again and ended up with my nice bullet wound above my heart as a souvenir."

Snake noted the tight smile and hard eyes on the young face in front of him.

Alex then changed the subject and asked about K-unit,"So Snake, is Eagle, Wolf or Fox here?"

"Wolf and Eagle, both no, K unit's on assignment and I have no idea about Fox. I haven't seen him for months. We all met up just after new year. You really should come to a K Unit get together. Fox's replacement was called Rat. He's OK. My replacement was a psycho para who earned the name Squirrel. They both think you're a urban myth."

The dinner passed with good food, speeches, and Harry accepting his retirement present from his regimental colleagues. Lasting the full 20 years in the regiment was a milestone. Most returned to their own regiments or sought an early discharge. After coffee, the dance started. Alex wandered outside to look at the darkening sky. He was joined by a stranger, in a kilt of a scottish regiment. Alex was not enough of a military buff to know which one.

"Hi, is it Alex or Cub? I'm Tom Elland. I heard you had some questions about a former member of Special Forces." The scot had made note of the medals on the kid's jacket. The rumours had placed the kid training for MI6 in March 2001. Snake had mentioned operations in France, Bangkok and Australia. The medals included America, Russian and Indian awards for bravery above and beyond the call of duty. Ellard normally did not like spooks, but this kid was different. He had to be since Harry Dixon liked him. Harry Dixon had a few close friends, not surprisng the man had been an institution in training.

"Its Alex, Alex Rider. My dad was in the SAS in the 1970's up until 1982. I know he was warded an MC during the Falklands but not much else. Ian, my uncle, said he was a Para but apart from that I know nothing."

"I'll have a dig. Pass on details to Harry."

"Sure that would be great. Thanks. I'm going back inside, to see if Margo wants a dance." With that thought Alex wandered back in thinking it was a shame he couldn't get Harry to dance with him.

Tom Elland watched the young man walk away. He would look up John and Ian and maybe uncover some facts about the mysterious Alex Rider.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex knelt before the flickering candles, having lit five more, for his parents, his Beckett grandparents and for Jack. He closed his eyes and prayed for his dear departed. According to Carl, they were in paradise, well maybe not his dad. Even though he'd been assured that his father had been a good man, Marius' honest opinion that John Rider was a bad lot held more sway than Yassen's death bed confession. Yassen was a cold blooded killer, an assassin. His dad may have been undercover for MI6 but he had killed his targets to keep his cover. John was most likely in Hell. Alex still prayed for his father, just incase. He then crossed himself before standing and walking over to the confessional.

"Forgive me father, I have sinned. I have had impure thoughts about several people and I have masturbated because of my impure thoughts. ..."

Alex's first confession in Cambridge had been the worst. Carl had told the priest just to let Alex get all his shame and guilt off his chest. He had been absolved of his sin, even though he was a killer. The Priest had spoken to Alex for a long time afterwards. It had in some ways been of more help than all the psychiatric care.

Here in Vauxhall, he kept his confession to his few misdemeanors; then again, lusting after and fucking guys was just one big no-no in the bigger scheme of things. Maybe Alex would eventually date some girls and marry. No, being a sad loner was OK, he could handle that. Luckily James had a new girlfriend so Alex was not getting any physical action and would not be getting any in the near future. He had been too chicken to ask Harry if he swung that way.

Alex was sat fiddling with his rosary looking at the stained glass windows. It was early, quiet and so calming. Then he recognised the woman, who had come in and sat on the same pew.

"Miss Bedfordshire?"

Startled the woman turned, "Ohh, hello. Ummm.. Oh.. Alex, its so good to see you. Have you moved back?"

"Yeah, I'm sharing a room with Tom Harris. I got my A levels and well, going to uni, when I get my act together."

"I'm so glad you finished school. I was really worried you'd... well..." Miss Bedfordshire stopped unsure of how to phrase her worst fears.

"End up in prison?" Alex laughed at finishing the school's secretary's sentence. "I had a long stay in a clinic getting my head shrunk when I was 15. I ended up in boarding school in Cornwall. I actually settled in with only a few upsets."

"Umm... fighting? truancy? vandalism?" The woman suggesting Alex's problems at Brookland had continued at his other schools.

"Severe depression, Self harm and... being a bit suicidal." Alex confessed with the bluntness of absolute truth.

"Oh.. Alex"

"I'm good, now. Really good. Do you want to go for a coffee or something after you're finished with the spiritual stuff?"

"I'd love to, Alex." a beautiful smile graced Miss Bedfordshire's face.

"I'll be here, you know. Sitting and ..ummm... well, thinking."

Alex arrived back at Tom's bedsit in a good mood, Miss Bedfordshire had been really good company. She was looking forward to seeing Alex at mass on Sunday. Alex had gotten in the habit of going to church with Marius. Carl had been the one to push Alex into seeing the priest, taking communion and getting confirmed. It reminded Alex of the small fragments of comfort and feeling safe with the housekeepers who looked after him initially in France and Spain when he was small.

Alex walked in to see Mrs Harris sat on the one chair looking stonily at Tom.

"I'll go back out.." said Alex wanting to make a hasty exit despite Tom's pleading eyes.

It was Mrs Harris that stated quite firmly, "No Alex, I want to talk to you as well. Come in and sit down." Mrs Harris took a sip of tea before looking at the two young men sat on the single bed together. "Tom has said you are looking for a flat together. I must say it has come as a bit of a shock, but don't you think you are both a bit to young for this sort of thing." said the woman. She smiled stiffly as if uncomfortable, "I do understand its a bit crampled the two of you together here". Alex watched the woman blush at this and turn her head away.

With a slow dawning, Alex coughed to mask the fact he wanted to laugh. "Umm... Mrs. Harris, I think your mistaken about Tom and I. I've been sleeping in the communal lounge downstairs on the sofa. The others in the house have been OK with this, cause I'm doing the cleaning and I fixed the shower and toilet. Tom and I are just best friends. We are looking for a two bedroomed flat. Errr.. Tom's not gay... We're not lovers."

Tom looked slightly green now. "You thought I was doing things to Alex. Gross. Its bad enough watching him kiss that slime James. God, mum! Did you come over to offer your support? Please tell me you have not been talking to dad or Jerry." He looked at his mother's face go pale. "This is all your fault, Rider! Shit, I've been outed as a nancy boy and I'm not and its not denial either."

Alex could not help laughing, then Diane Harris did. Tom stood and started to shout, "Shut up both of you. Its not funny!"

It took two cups of tea and most of the chocolate digestives to placate Tom.

"So, Alex where were you this morning?" asked Diane.

"Umm Sacred Heart, confession. I'm going to mass tomorrow. I met Miss Bedfordshire there. We had a coffee and caught up on things. Its just great being back. Funny I could not wait to leave after Jack died but its better than Cornwall. Its almost home, I guess."


	6. Chapter 6

Flat hunting was horrible and ultimately depressing. The choice was either disgustingly dirty, small and expensive or upmarket, fabulous and prohibitively expensive. Working was also getting Alex down. He'd actually gotten some translation work but saying it was dull was being generous. He preferred doing odd jobs. Fixing things around Tom's house then at Tom's mums had spread to the landlord asking him to do various things. Mr. Kahn called him a good boy, an excellent worker. He guessed he deserved that after unblocking the drains. Cash in hand was good as well. Then again his agency pay cheque seemed to be extremely small. Alex almost had enough saved for a deposit and two months rent, well rent for a dive rather than a palace. Alex was avoiding the fact he had to find out about Ian's stuff and the house in Chelsea, but he was loathed to travel to Liverpool Street. It was the one place in London he avoided like the plague.

Alex had suffered another day traveling to and from some nasty office in the Centre of London. He threw his suit jacket on Tom's bed and decided to get Edward's advice about sorting out Ian's estate now he was out of school. His long detailed email was answered by a return phone call from Edward Pleasure within 20 minutes.

"HI Edward, I guess your going to tell me just to go and talk to Mrs Jones."

"What do you need, Alex? Dutch courage? Just grab the bull by the horns. These are your possessions, Ian left everything to you. The house has not been sold. Its technically yours. John and Helen probably left stuff for you as well. Ask, if they play hard ball, get a lawyer. I doubt you'll need to go that far. The trust fund was only Ian's investments and liquid capital. That's locked away until you're 25. Worst case scenario you have to wait until 2012 for the money and possessions. If you can get into the house in Chelsea, you must decide if its more economic to continue to rent it out or to move in. The rental income could be used to rent or buy a flat as an interim investment. You do not need a four bedroomed town house at the moment"

"I never even considered buying a flat. Its an option isn't it?"

"It is. Especially with the amount of building going on in London, put a down payment at a new development. Tom's share of the rent should ease the mortgage payments. First you have to stop your avoidance tactics. You handled the ceremonies in February OK"

"I just hate that place." Alex said in a small sad voice.

"I know. I'm not over until September. Pre Publicity for my book on Scorpia. I bet I get to meet SIS over that book."

"I'm just glad you went for the whole story not just Hunter and Cossack."

"You never got a code name, did you?"

"No, I was expected to die." Alex sighed before collecting his thoughts "Look I think I'll have a general moan now. Work sucks. I hate flat hunting and I really need to get laid. I think I'll go out on the town tonight. I might even drag Tom out with me. All work and no play makes Alex a dull boy."

"Sure Alex, don't get arrested."

"Thank for your help, Edward."

"Anytime...anytime."

"Love to Liz, Nathan and Sabs, Bye."

Alex put his phone down and went to shower.

Tom came in dusty and hot from working on a building site all day to find lying Alex naked on his bed reading. "Dear God Alex put some clothes on!" was exclaimed as Tom grabbed his towel and clean clothes.

"So why are we going out?" enquired Tom as he ate the pasta bake Alex had cooked, moping up the sauce with the last of the garlic bread.

"I'm a bit.. down. I need cheering up. I thought we might try and get laid." Alex looked at the funny look on Tom's face. "So normal or gay bar?"

"I frankly do not care, just somewhere lively so I can let my hair down and dance. Why a bar? You don't drink." Tom then burped, it was great having Alex cook and clean. Housekeeping was Tom's least favourite activity, the one down side of moving out from his mother's place.

"Look you may not do casual sex, but I would like to connect even if its only a couple of hours. I need to feel wanted, desired, even if its only lust. I would not have this problem if James lived in London."

Tom looked stormy, "James is a dick. He fucks his girlfriends around and then comes over and fucks you around. He's a playboy."

"Funny he said I should be a playboy, considering my past. I'm more monk than James Bond." Alex quipped.

"Umm, lets go find some girls to dance and chat to. Maybe even go on some dates."

"Like a normal person." Alex had now a distinctly pissed look on his face as he started to clear the table and wash up before the other occupants of the house needed to use the kitchen.

"I didn't mean it like that. It would be nice to have a special someone. Admit it, you would like to have a girlfriend or boyfriend. I know you wanted all that with James. Its a leap of faith to find someone. You have to get to know them and to trust them, not all girls will be so judgmental as Sabina. Some girls actually like a bit of excitement, you know threesomes." Tom then coughed, "My idea of a threesome is two girls and myself."

"I could go for that. Two girls together that hot. Maybe we should trawl the gay bars just to lust over the lesbians."

"You sick boy Alex. I could go for that."

The went to a bar in Soho, Alex drank expensive mineral water and Tom sipped equally expensive lager. Tom and Alex sat together and people watched. Alex even dragged his friend to the dance floor.

After a couple of hours they moved on to another pub, one within walking distance of home, so they did not have to try for a taxi or the dreaded night bus home, south of the river.

In the Clarence, a short, dark haired young woman at the bar practically squealed "Tom? Alex? OMG its been ages since I've seen either if you, you both left after year 10. Come and join us."

"Becca... Becca Hughes? I would never have recognised you, you're so hot." stated Tom at his old school friend.

"Nicely put there, Tom." smiled Alex.

"Well I'm sure you remember Dee, Trace and Sue."

"Evening Ladies", said Alex cooly, noting all of the girls had treated him like a leper at school after Ian died.

"Hi, I guess you girls would like a drink." Tom acting the perfect gentleman. Orders taken Tracey and Sue excused themselves to the little girls room and Becca walked Tom to the bar, the both of them talking ten to the dozen.

Dee looked at her old class mate, and gathered up her courage. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you back in Years 9 and 10. I was immature and went with the crowd. I just did not think you were doing drugs. You were quiet and withdrawn; not out of it. In hindsight I guess you had a really bad time dealing with loosing you uncle and then all the shit that goes with social services and foster placements. I can empathise now, my mum has cancer. The thought of loosing her is devastating. She's all I have."

"I'm sorry to here about your mum. Is she still receiving treatment or in remission?"

"She's had radio and chemo therapy. We're waiting for the scans to show an all clear. She had a double mastectomy, as well. Now she has no boobs and no hair. She refuses to go out. Its completely drained her." Dee dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, before accepting a tissue from Alex. "Thanks... I only came out tonight for a bit of a cheer up really. Mum's at her best friend's having a DVD night of slushy old movies."

"I like slushy old movies myself, especially Bette Davis ones"

"Don't admit to that, Alex. People will think you're gay."

"Your gaydar not working then. I thought Tom had told everyone about my disasterous relationship with James."

"OMG.. Your gay." Dee was frankly shocked that sports mad Alex Rider was a bit well.. he was gay but still very masculine.

"Umm Bi.. I fell hook line and sinker for James, though. I dated Chrissie, a girl at my boarding school but I broke it off. She was not a patch on two timing, sleazy, sex god James."

"Oh man, you like bad boys. You're gonna get you heart broken every time. You need a nice lovely boy or girl to settle down with."

"Really I quite fancied a boy and a girl... A menage a trois. That would be perfection. Tom says I'll make a good wife anyway"

"So you and Tom aren't..together?"

"No Tom is very very very straight. I have tried to turn him to the dark side.. but alas no. He's totally oblivious." Alex sighed in a exaggerated manner making Dee giggle.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex watched the entrance to the Royal and General Bank, he was hidden in the shadow of a office building opposite. He could see the spot where he's been shot perfectly and guessed this very building had been where the sniper had been hidden. He finished his strong italian coffee, lots of caffeine flavoured with cinnamon syrup. He crossed the road at the pedestrian crossing and entered the bank.

"Good Morning. Welcome to the Royal and General. How may I help you?" said the bright and cheerful receptionist.

"I would like to make an appointment to see someone about my uncle's estate. Ian Rider worked on the fifteenth floor as an Overseas Account Manager. He died on the 6th March 2001. I'm his nephew and his sole heir. Alex... Alexander John Rider." Alex then handed over a card with his details, he had printed them for doing odd jobs and freelance translation work. "I also want to enquire about my parents wills. I don't know if the bank has that information, but I think my father John Rider had an account here."

"I'll put a call through to the correct department, could you please wait in the seating area to the left?"

"Sure." Alex sat down before pulling out his list of notes and queries.

A young woman dressed in a smartly tailored suit and high heels clicking on the floor stopped and announced her presence "Would you please follow me, Mr. Rider." They moved to a small office on the ground floor. "Can I get you a drink before we start?"

"Umm.. a glass of water would be great."

"Right I have your uncles file here. You are 18. The majority of the investments and his insurance policies are held in trust until you are 25."

Alex interrupted "I understand that." Alex pulled out his check list. "I wish to know about the house in Chelsea. The rental income was used to pay for my boarding school fees. Will the income be something I can used now and when I'm at uni next year?"

"I'll have to look into that."

"When I was fostered by the Pleasures in 2002, what happened to Ian's and my parent's effects? I know my father had medals. I know there were a few family photos in a box and what happened to the furniture? Ian collected pieces from all over the world, art and furniture. I know the Bank cleared the house. Was it all sold, or junked? I never really thought about it until I left school. I own three bags of clothes and a car. Not much else."

"I only have the investment sheet. Your uncles file is kept upstairs. I will arrange an appointment to speak with one of our lawyers."

"That would be great. I would like to know if I have any assets as I'm currently sleeping on a friend's sofa. Its not ideal. I'm working and I almost have enough saved to get a flat, but my foster father suggested buying, but I need to know my options before I go down that avenue."

"A laudable goal. We would recommend you bank and arrange your mortgage here. Who do you have your account with at the moment?"

"HSBC. Its the nearest bank to Tom's place. I'd rather not have to travel here, its not convenient."

"We will ring you when our legal team can address your issues. Thank you for visiting. Goodbye, Mr. Rider."

Alex left and went straight into the nearest pub. Two double vodkas straight down and Alex was still shaking. "Had a shock mate?" asked the Australian barman.

"Trying to sort out my uncle's estate. He raised me and died suddenly when I was 14 in a car accident. I have no idea what happened to all the stuff that belonged to him and my parents. I was bundled off to foster parents and I know nothing. Its a mess."

"Thats social services for you. Did you pack a case and that was it? No child understand these things at the time and I bet no one took the time to tell you. Don't keep your hopes up. Do you know who was the executor?"

"I do, but I'd rather not talk to that abusing bastard ever again." With that statement Alex left to make his way back to Vauxhall.

Tom watched a sullen Alex Rider at dinner push food around his plate, before he disappeared for a long run. Alex knew south London well from his long bike rides. He cut across the park in Lambeth and straight into a situation an angry frustrated young man should avoid. Three skinheads were bothering a gay couple. Alex knew he should check his impulsiveness but he felt like a fight. He jogged up.

"Whats the problem?" Alex had to admit he was dressed in distressed army cast offs from Harry and had an almost regulation haircut.

"Its no problem we're just leaving stated the young man with the Lacroix pink and grey sweater and tight designer jeans.

"Thats sounds OK then, no problem or are you lot going to make it one" The three moved to prevent the two chosen victims from escaping, Alex stared at the three youths and then noticed the eldest had a paras tattoo. "You in 2 Para then?

"No my brother, he's trying out for the SAS this summer."

"OK, shame Harry's not longer there or I could ask about him."

"Harry?"

"Ex regimental sergeant, a real sweetee really."

"Gordon Bennett, you fucking queer as well?"

"And your problem is?" was said as the first youth moved in on Alex and he reacted just as he was taught. The blow short and efficient. One down two to go.

"You're pulling our leg. You're SAS ain't ya?"

"No actually I'm too violent for the SAS." quipped Alex, hoping they tried something.

The mouthy bastard then flicked a knife open. Alex was having none of it and the three of them were soon groaning on the ground. Alex kicked the knife into the bushes and turned to the two frightened young men. "I hate bullies. Can't understand race hatred or the whole thing against being in love. I wish I was. You chaps look like you could do with a drink. I think I could do with one as well."

As they walked the short distance to the nearest pub, Marco talked fast and rambled in his nervousness about how he and Si had just bought a flat in South Clapham and had previously lived in Manchester. Both worked in publishing.

"Oh you might know my foster father, ex- foster father, he's a journalist/writer, Edward Pleasure." blurted out Alex.

Si laughed "We work in glossies, not the serious press. I have read his book on Damian Cray. Who would have thought that he was such a nutcase, kidnapping Mr Pleasure's daughter and her best friend. Its shocking."

Alex kept his mouth shut about Cray being was worse in real life. "Sabina was really shaken by the whole thing, I can tell you." The pub was lively with a good crowd of well to do and affluent newcomers, not a native Londoner in sight. "So guys what can I get you, Mines a double vodka, straight up." With that Alex laughed at his own joke.

Alex was mellow and getting in the zone. Si and Marco proved to be a scream and it was just what the doctor ordered. Beat up some shits and get drunk. The one thing Alex had not factored in was Tom.

Tom and Harry entered the Duke of York to see Alex singing on the Karaoke machine loudly, slightly out of time and out of tune but enjoying himself as he was both booed and encouraged by the crowd.

"Shit! How much do you reckon he's drunk?" asked a shocked Tom.

Harry had long experience of clearing up after the worst excesses of the squaddies both home and abroad, shrugged, "Enough, not too much, he's happy not violent. We just have to get him in bed to sleep it off".

"Harry, Tom, mates... come join the party. I made some new friends."

Si and Marco were laughing until Tom said in a low concerned voice at his best friend who was hugging Tom for all his worth. "I thought at dinner you's fallen off the wagon."

Alex was just coming up to the point where it all came crashing down, he was suddenly quiet and he separated suddenly and was staring at the scars on his left arm.

Harry then steered Alex out of the door and to the practically abandoned rather than parked Landrover. "Come on Cub, back to mine to sleep it off and you can talk to the Doc in the morning. As you can see Tom's been driving your car, very badly. I'll drive you both back."


	8. Chapter 8

Alex woke disorientated, dehydrated and in a room he did not recognize. He thought 'Oh God what did I do last night?' He could not remember anything after starting to sing karaoke. He must have been completely wasted to sing in public. He was still wearing his boxers and t-shirt, so it was unlikely he'd had sex. He then heard the door opening.

Harry Dixon, in the same manner of years of handling fellow soldiers with disgusting hangovers opened the curtains wide and in his best sergeant voice "Get up Cub. Time to drink coffee, eat breakfast and accompany me to a meeting with a few select friends. You have 5 minutes to appear in the kitchen."

Alex groaned. He'd been dragged back to Harry's lodgings to sleep of his bender. He knew Harry shared accommodations with several others who worked for the same agency. There would be a kitchen full of ex-soldiers. He emerged from the duvet and looked at the clock 7:35am. He sat up and the room span.

Three forty year old men were sat in the kitchen, each eating bacon butties drinking either tea or coffee with Radio 2 blaring in the background. Harry was buttering a round of toast and turned when Alex entered the kitchen. The young man looked like death warmed up

"Mike, Dan, Graeme, this is Alex or Cub. He fell off the wagon last night so is a bit tender this morning."

"I take it you have problems with alcohol, part of the programme?" asked one of the men.

"Programme? No I just don't drink normally except when I have episodes. Yesterday was not an episode. I just had a few drinks, its allowed." Alex stated defiantly.

"Umm, denial is a River in Egypt. So Harry are you young Cub's sponsor?" answered another man with a deep voice, shaking his head.

Harry placed the toast in front of Alex with a mug of strong sweet tea. "Eat up Cub. I spoke to Doc, he thinks you attending some meetings would help. You only drink when you can't cope so either its a self help group or you go back to getting your head shrunk. You state you did not have an episode so why act so out of control?"

"I had a bad day, OK. I went to the Bank to talk about Ian, the house in Chelsea and what happened to all the stuff after Jack died. I talked to Edward and he thought I may be able to get some answers to help with my lack of housing at the moment." Alex drank an big drink of tea and then bit his nails not touching the toast on the plate before him.

Mike pushed his hand through his hair "The Bank as in Liverpool Street, MI6's black ops HQ?"

"Yeah" stated Alex "I fucking hate that place."

Harry then stood up, "Come on Cub. Our meeting starts in 20 minutes and its 1/2 a mile away."

Alex sat in a dismal cafe. He could not believe Harry has shared something so personal with him. Harry stated in the meeting he had a bad relationship with alcohol and that it had taken a serious blip after Kuwait for him to realise he had a problem. Drinking to excess had compounded his PTSD. He had been sober ever since. No body expected Alex to talk, so he had listened. Alex had not been completely sober but the occasional glass of wine, not a drink Alex particularly liked was one thing, downing a lot of vodka when things were shit was another. Alex thought he had not been so bad last night but then recalled had drunk to the point of oblivion. He had to admit it reflected the bad days when he was 16.

Harry brought two coffees to the table and Alex stated in a firm voice "I am not an alcoholic."

"Not yet but you only drink when you are extremely stressed. Its a bad pattern to start, don't drink like that Alex. It a recipe for disaster considering your skills. You get threatened by some other young hothead and you could kill him with one blow." Harry took a big slurp of the milky coffee. "You need to be in control. Next time Tom might not raise the alarm and you kill someone or yourself. If things are bad talk to me or contact anyone in the support group. We are hear to stop any other lapses to happen. You will have bad days in future but don't resort to drinking yourself to death." Harry looked out of the window "My sister Margo was my wake up call. She told me in no uncertain terms if I was going to act like a miserable bum I could go back to Wales right away. She's such a kind and meek girl normally I must have been acting like a complete horror. You were not good last night. Your good mood bled away in a second."

Alex was sat looking at the scars on his inner left arm. "I haven't cut since then, you know. Marcus was always there."

Harry reached forward ansd held onto Alex's hands. "And now he isn't. Trust your friends Alex. Trust us, when you can't trust yourself."

The moment on intimacy ended and Harry continued. "I needed to talk to you anyway. I got some info about John Rider.. ex leader L unit. Two others who served with him are alive. I got their addresses at home. You can write or ring them. John's exit from the regiment was a bit of a scandal so they may give you the cold shoulder. Tom got a bit of info. Its all in his letter. And.. I'm off abroad tomorrow. General security job near Tours. Bet its really boring but the pays good. I'm there for six weeks. If you need me contact Margo. She'll be able to phone me or leave a message. So Alex, hang in there. If getting Ian's estate sorted out is getting you down, fuck the money, Its not worth the agro. OK. Just rent out a dive with Tom and get your act together"


	9. Chapter 9

The phone rang insessantly on the floor of the living room. Alex was trying to have a lie in on Saturday morning after a busy week. It was the second week in August and the summer was flying by. After the third phone call in a row, Alex answered with a terse, "Rider."

"Oh... umm... is that Alex? I'm sure this is the right number Harry gave me." asked a woman hesitantly.

Alex rubbed his eyes, and sat up on the sofa, "Margo? Is that you?"

"Yes... I'm sorry to call but I didn't know who else to contact. It was our birthday yesterday, mine and Harry's. Our 42nd. Harry didn't call. He didn't send a card. He always sends me something, even when he was stationed abroad. I sure he got someone at base to send them then. He organised it all before hand. I spoke to those people he works for they said he'd left his job in France without informing them." The stream of explanations ended and Margo sniffed and then her voice quavered. "Harry's in trouble. I know he is. Either he started drinking again or he's hurt. I don't know what to do or who to turn to."

"Look Margo. I can get on a train and be in Huddersfield in three or four hours. Then you can tell me everything."

"No, I'm coming to London. I want to see those people he works for. I'm booked on the 9:30 train from Leeds."

Alex tried to think of any sane reason Harry would let his sister down. "I'll meet you at King's Cross. I come with you to talk to the Agency."

"Thank you Alex. I'll bring all the details Harry left with me. I've booked the 8'o clock train home this evening."

Alex waited on the concourse of Kings Cross at 12:30 for the arrival of the train from Yorkshire. It was going to be a very long day for poor, worried Margo. Alex was still wondering why Harry had let his number with his sister in case anything went wrong and not anyone else at the Agency or at Brecon?

The Agency was a single dingy office at Charing Cross. They were fobbed off with Harry had broken his contract, so his disappearance was nothing to do with them. They would not even give Margo the name or the person or company Harry had been contracted to.

"Come on Margo. They're not going to tell us anything." Alex said with the certainty, knowing the mind set of small minded bureaucrats.

Margo sobbed into her cup of latte in the brightly lit Italian cafe, full of students from St. Martin's. The bad italian music and background conversation meant they would not be overhead.

"I know the agency wouldn't tell us anything. But as they say, there is more than one way of skinning a cat." Alex stated, if the legitimate direct approach did not work, you just had to be sneaky and as an ex-spy Alex knew all about sneaky.

Margo looked at him hopefully, dabbing her eyes and listened intently as Alex made a phone call.

"Jason. How much do you charge for information at the moment?"

"OK thats reasonable. Is that a special rate for annoying ex-roomies?"

"Sure, Cash. I'll see you about nine. I have to drop a lovely lady off for her train home first."

Alex flipped his phone shut and them finished his coffee. "Right, Jason should be able to get Harry's personnel file. If I get an address and any other relevant info, I'll go to France and try to find Harry. It should be a fairly easy task. Not that I think Harry has fallen off the wagon. He got me into the programme so thats just a convenient excuse for people who don't know him. I can speak french so I'll check out the hospitals just in case he has had an accident. I have a couple of grand in savings which will cover expenses."

It was at that point Margo reached into her large hand bag and pulled out an A5 plain brown envelope which was passed under the table and onto Alex's lap. "Its my savings, for a trip around the world. €4000 in a variety of used notes. That should help. There's also a recent photo of Harry and his passport details."

"You seem to have thought of everything."

"How much is your friend charging for getting the information."

"£200. He taught me all I know about getting around computer security systems, I could do it but he'd be quicker and he has his own computer." Alex stowed the money in his jacket pocket. It seemed surreal to be wearing a suit on saturday and now he was a private eye.

Jason lived with his parents in Chiswick. The long haired heavy metal fan opened the door before Alex rang the bell and showed him straight upstairs and into a dark and musty room. The music was subdued and two computers and a laptop were on a large wrap around desk.

"Nice set up." Alex said in all honesty.

"Thanks mate. So you want info?"

"Personnel file from Cerberus Security Agency, 117 Charing Cross Road. Third Floor Office 3d." Alex handed over a piece of letter headed paper he'd swiped that afternoon. With the name of three directors on the base of the page.

"Name?"

"Harry Dixon. Full Name Harold Jerome Dixon. Date of Birth 9th August 1963. Birthplace Huddersfield West Riding of Yorkshire. Address 18 Crwys Road, Brecon, Powys, Wales"

"Right, how do you spell that?" enquired Jason as he did a search on the company.

"OK, Alex. Help yourself to a coke in the fridge. Thus should take about half an hour."

Alex pulled out €420 euros. "Euros OK?"

"I don't know what exchange rate your working on but this is too much."

"A small amount on account in case I need something done while I'm in France."

Jason looked at Alex, a boy he thought he knew well after sharing a room at school for two and a half years, but the man in front of him was cold, emotionless and driven. It was like a switch had been flipped and sad, withdrawn and twitchy Alex had disappeared.

"Why are you off to France? Not a holiday, I'd guess?"

"My friend Harry has dropped off the face of the earth. His mobile is dead. He missed his twin sister's birthday and the agency are being arseholes. Harry is ex Army. He does thing in a set order, on time and in the right sequence with no exceptions. The man irons his socks for Christ's sake. So I'm off to find what hole he;s crawled into, drag him back to his sister's so she can bollock him big time."

"Oh, sounds serious." said the understanding hacker.

"Yeah, he better not be a corpse or I'll have to reanimate him so Margo can kill him again for getting himself killed."


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as Alex read the description of Harry's employer in France, he got Jason to do a quick search on the firm. In Alex's extensive experience the firm sounded like a front, but a front for what? He was not going to do any snooping, time was critical, he had to find Harry and fast. It sounded like Harry had walked into just the type of scenario that Alex had found himself in not once but many times.

It had been five, lonely, hard days and in an act of desperation Alex had broken into the factory where Harry had worked as a security guard and found it was rather empty. No power, no plant or products. He found the manager's office and went through the burnt remains of the files. There was a fragment of paper with a partial address, no number. Alex now went on stake out duty to find the most likely candidate and hoped he was lucky.

After narrowing down the possibilities over two days, Alex settled on one likely location for his continued search. The industrial unit on the outskirts of Tours had a lot more going on. Two armoured cars, several bodyguards and two shifty looking blokes in very fancy suits. Whatever was going down, Alex could bet it was not legit. Then Alex decided to be a bit proactive, when the group went inside. Alex had cased the joint and moved in the shadows, utilising the gaps between the surveillance cameras and found himself behind one of the cars. He picked the lock of the boot and removed the brief case and went back to his lookout post. In the case were a bundle of strange looking printed sheets.

After an hour of nothing happening, everyone seemed to leave and Alex crept down to check out the unit. With ease he disabled the security system and then knocked out the guards, binding them with duct tape. He then started a quick search. In the first room Alex found Harry, sat tied to a chair looking a bit worse for wear, dishevelled, dirty, a bit bruised but not too bad.

Harry stood and stared, rubbing his newly released wrists at the tall figure dressed as a ninja. He knew their time was almost up. He'd seen something he shouldn't, talked to a man being held prisoner and had woken up here seven days ago. Whatever was being planned was over. The directors of Phoenix Inc, were about to disappear. The SAS sergeant was tense, it was now or never if he wanted to escape when the assassin/rescuer spoke, "Been sat on your arse long enough Sarge? I was sent by she who must be obeyed to bollock you for missing her birthday."

"Cub?" Harry had never been more glad to see Alex. "Its sergeant, you cheeky bastard and there's another operative in the next room, MI5 or 6 I'd guess. They've not been so kind to him."

"OK we'll pick up the extra passenger but we need to get out. I guess Ig and Ook who were just here will be back to finish you off."

The two of them checked out the man in the next room. Alex and Harry practically carried the man to the rear exit, through a hole in the fence and down a bank to the car Alex had stolen. They sped into the night down several side roads and out of Tours, traveling south-west to Chinon. Ten kilometres along the main road they pulled off onto a forestry track. After two kilometres, Alex stopped. "Harry my Landrover is parked 10m in front of you, under some scrim. Stash the camo, I'll be back in five after I sort out my rather hot get away car."

After ten minutes Alex returned with a clean face, different clothes and then Harry heard the bang of a car catching fire in the distance.

The gîte was small converted outhouse with two bedrooms and a living space all on one floor. Alex had rented it for two weeks, cash in hand at a good rate, as he was masquerading as a Parisian art student and the woman at the farm had taken a shine to him. The rental had come available at the last minute due to a cancellation.

Harry helped Alex carry the stranger to the small sofa. He then noted the map on the wall surrounded with scraps of information on post it notes and pages from a file. The ex-spy had tracked him down by himself.

Alex went straight to the kitchen and came back with mugs of soup, bottles of water and some rolls. He left again to sort out the first aid kit.

"So mate, do you have a name or shall I just call you Commander?" said Alex cheekily to the stranger when they were alone. Harry was busy in the shower and all Alex's first aide skills were being used. He had a bowl of hot soapy water and a flannel, bandages, gauze and antiseptic cream were being carefully used and applied to the large numbers of cuts, abrazons and burns.

"Commander?" said the thirty-something man with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

"You know, Commander James Bond or 007, whatever or did Harry give you a sad codename at Brecon at one time or another. He still chuckles about calling me Cub." Alex was happy to keep the man talking, it proved he was OK and not in shock. As soon as he was clean. The teenager got two blankets to wrap him up with. When Harry got back they'd move mystery guy to the master bedroom. Harry and himself could bunk in the smaller room with twin beds.

"Yeah I passed through Brecon many moons ago, my group did not get cool codenames, just lots and lots of abuse."

"Don't worry I got lots of that as well. Sergeant was cool in the end. He was a trouper. He helped me out when I was a bit low. Still provides sage advice. His sister was going spare when he missed her birthday. Totally out of character for Mr. Organisation."

"So, your ex-SAS, get invalided out in Iraq?"

"No bad operation in Cairo. Scorpia/CIA/MI6 fuck up. I'm glad I'm out of it all. Just thinking about uni now. Might become a teacher, that would really shock my best mate, Tom."

"So, Harry's not your best mate?"

"Harry could be. Maybe. I don't know."

Harry came in with a towel around his waist showing off nice bruises on his torso and stomach.

"OK Sergeant, now for your rough and ready medical. The commander here is as good as can be expected. Rest, food and lots to drink. No pissing blood, vomiting or dizzy spells allowed. OK. Help me get him into bed, Harry. Its just to the right."

Alex woke everyone every two hours just to make sure there were no concussions or any other medical emergencies on the cards. He was still fairly buzzed at 7:30 when he drove into town for fresh bread and croissants. He had been eating shit so far on his trip to France. Today it was going to be top of the line, francophile bliss. Minus the vin rouge and cognac of course. While in town he posted the strange documents to James for his dad to have a look at.

The commander savoured the pure luxury of the thick black coffee, hot chocolate and croissants. Harry grumbled about needing a fry. Alex just smirked. This was hog heaven for him. He cleared the table and pulled out two brand new pay as you go phones. "OK guys, now you can contact your loved ones. Tomorrow we drive to Caen for the boat to Pompey."

They all listened as Harry spoke first to Margo then Lyn and Joe. The old softie even cried. Harry and Alex then made themselves scarse as the Commander phoned whoever. Alex thought, they had no idea who he actually worked for, it might even be French State Security. The man just slipped into their pattern of behaviour, like any spy would. Alex had found it so easy to be a French kid again. He then checked himself, he'd spend two years in primary school in France, he was as french as he was german and spanish. It was part of his childhood, good or bad. It was just a fact. Nothing to beat himself up over.

The Commander watched early the next morning as the kid packed and cleaned meticulously. Every surface and detail was gone over, like a professional. Alex stopped at the farmhouse to hand back the keys, four days early. Madam de Salle was sad to see him leave and gave him a cake for the journey and a kiss on the cheek.

After four clicks the french number plates were removed from the Landrover and they headed west to the port for the evening sailing. Stopping once so Alex could buy some food for taking home.

As they waited their turn for boarding the ferry, Alex commented "Going all the way to Vauxhall or do you need dropping anywhere else, Commander Bond?"

"Don't be surprised if we get asked a few questions in Pompey," said the still very guarded stranger.

"Ahhh, you better not work for Crawley or Jones. I will be seriously pissed off if we end up at the Royal and General." said a terse Alex just to let Spooky Mulder know he was in no mood for games.

"No I'm not special operations. I answer directly to M." The man giving away all he would to the two other retired operatives.

"Ok Sweet FA, you are a bloody double O. Christ Harry, you really do pick the worst friends!" exclaimed Alex.

"Don't blame me Cub. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." said Harry in mock annoyance.

"I think we all were." was the Commander stoic reply.

"Speak for yourself losers. I saved your bacon. No medals this time. I did the right thing just for me and my friend Harry."


	11. Chapter 11

Harry started to worry about passport control as they drove into the Port at Caen, when Alex pulled out two passports his own and a brand new one for Harry. "Stop panicking, Harry. You left forms with your sister in case you mislaid or lost yours, it came through and she couriered it to me. Only the Commander has no paper work but seeing how he's asleep in the back I say we just keep quiet about him. They probably won't notice our passenger." The Landrover went onto the boat with barely a glance. They parked and disembarked. "We have a cabin, wait until the rush is over and we'll bed down. I'll bring sandwiches and hot drinks to you guys. Just rest for the time being."

Alex lay on the bunk awake most of the night. He was meant to return to London as if nothing had happened, he could not stop thinking how the chase to find Harry had been a thrilling, desperate and completely exhilarating game. Alex was then drawn to the dark corners of his mind and the black self-hatred and depression that was never far below the surface. Was he just the man his uncle had planned him to be? Alex had itchy fingers. Luckily he was stuck in a room with two twitchy operatives, who would definitely wake up if he moved to either go to the bathroom or exit for the bar. No, he could neither get shit-faced or inflict a large amount of pain on himself.

As they moved back to Alex's trusty old Landrover, Harry noted Alex was tense and looked bone tired. "I'll drive to London. OK, Cub, you look a bit frazzled."

"I'm OK, Sergeant. I just need to have a long chat with the Doc" was all Alex said.

Harry understood the code, that Alex would phone Doc Pritchard as soon as they had a clear mobile phone signal.

Harry drove off the ferry with the practiced ease many years knocking around in Army issue Landrovers. Alex sat back and started to snooze. The Commander was propped up in the back between a pair of rucksacks and observed the interaction of the two ex-squaddies. The sergeant calm and collected, even when imprisoned and being questioned by the less than stellar hosts in Lyon. He then looked at the younger soldier, who swung fro completely professional to twitchy and introverted. 'Cub' was young, maybe he'd had a bum fist tour with the squadron and gone off the deep end, but the ease of his abilities spoke of many successful missions. He could not be over twenty-three. The spy cursed himself for not sneaking a peek at the two soldier's passports. The younger man was not hiding behind a legend, he'd been perfectly open about his friendship with the sergeant. The spy then thought about his turn in fortune, getting caught and then Harry recognising him. A simple bit of data gathering had morphed into a complete FUBAR. He'd had an easier time during his last bit of terrifying clock and dagger in Iran. It had been France, for Christ's sake. He'd been stupid to think of the two crooks running the operation had been simple low life's, not the fully trained terrorist's they turned out to be. He had not even found out what was being traded. He was headed for a complete bollocking when he got back to Vauxhall. The Commander then smirked at the kid's utter derision about the spook squad at Liverpool Street. He wondered when Cub and those jokers had crossed paths.

The security alert was for one car with three occupants. There customs officers had watched the SAS anti-terrorism team arrive and set up with smooth efficiency, two snipers were in place and the plan of splitting off the car from the rest of the traffic had been discussed and the various scenarios for possible trouble were played out until evryone took up their positions.

Harry exited the ferry and noted the officer directing traffic looked awfully familiar. They were directed around to an isolated unit and then the car was surrounded by armed soldiers.

Alex was still snoring on the passanger seat. The stress of the past two weeks had lead to a complete crash. He was home, he had nothing to worry about.

A gruff familiar face looked at the man in the driving seat and signalled the all clear. "Morning Sergeant, had a nice holiday?"

"Holiday? Who gave you your intel? I was working and then I was a guest of some not so nice friends of the Commander in the back." Harry quipped, still aprehensive with his hands on view. He knew it would be a full search and debrief on exiting the vehicle. "OK Wolf, I'll wake up Cub. I don't want him to have an episode here. He's been a bit strung out. Saved my bacon though so you bastards better treat him right." Harry then handed over the two passports. "I have no idea who our other passanger is, he trained in 1999 at Brecon, Oman, Norway and Belize with the group from Special Branch." A little bit of code for the Special Forces training that most agents undertook. The guy was definitely a spook.

Wolf them looked in the back and barked "Get a medic here pronto."

Alex opened his eyes as Harry unbuckled his seat belt. "Sorry for waking you Cub, but Wolf has sent a welcoming party."

"Wolf? Welcoming?" Alex then looked at the grim faces of the soldiers outside. "Ah, right on the floor in restaints welcome. Thats the Wolf I know and love."

"Good boy Cub, jus exit slowly, keep your hands in view and do everything they say."

Alex and Harry exited at the same time and were quickly searched, handcuffed and then manhandled into a waiting van.

Harry watched as Alex slumped in exhaustion still handcuffed and snored the entire way to the evaluation centre. The Commander had not travelled with them, but Harry reckoned the man had been taken to hospital for assessment. The poor bloke had been knocked about a bit and had only received basic first aid in France.

The van disappeared into the underground car park at Albert Embankment, Vauxhall. Cub and Harry were blindfolded and separated before the debriefing began.

Harry had been strip searched and then the doctor had checked him out. At this point Harry laid down the law. "Right Doctor, I guess Alex is getting the same treatment. Before we left the ferry, Alex stated he wanted to talk to his shrink, Doc Pritchard is attached to Brecon and Credenhill. Just pass the message on. Alex has episodes. He's still jumpy. Don't scare the Kid, OK."

"I'll see what I can do." was all the blank faced doctor had said.


	12. Chapter 12

Sir Charles Fellows read through the files at his desk. Operation Purdy had seen one of his top agents disappear on a stake out on some minor members of the Russian mafia, who were involved in blackmailing a Siberian oil and gas magnate and would be politician. Agent Damian Galitsin had been missing for three weeks, assumed dead, when he had called in with the tale of being held prisoner with a retired SAS sergeant rescued by an ex-SAS soldier called 'Cub'. Only 'Cub' was not a soldier but a state secret, one of Special Operations less than stellar decisions to use a teenager in several high profile operations, leading the boy out to the Americans and letting the boy cross the paths of the Australians, Russians, French and Indian Secret Services. Each government had awarded the boy for his bravery, as had MI6 over 'Invisible Sword'. Medical had laid down the law, let the 18 year old rest and had seconded the SAS Psychiatrist to talk to young Alex. Sir Charles had been the SIS/NATO liaison in early 2001 and 2002, before his promotion. The whole situation was a potential quagmire. The boy had been psychologically damaged by torture and mishandling by those renegades at the Bank.

Sir Charles understood medical's hard line attitude given Alexander Rider's fragile mental health. The Bank had sealed the boy's files, sweeping the whole matter under the carpet. In 2002, Alan Blunt had retired, then in early 2003 Tulip Jones and John Crawley had transferred to head the internal anti-terrorist division of MI5, meant plausible deniability was in force at the Bank. The delicate matter of an 18 year old not so ex-field agent was firmly in his court. Sir Charles then sat to re-read the debriefing notes of the three operatives. He then read the report from Interpol, the two Russian hoods had been brutally murdered in Marseilles yesterday. There was more going on than the initial reports suggested. Who had killed them and why?

Alex had been open and answered all the questions put to him, he had not been forthcoming about details they had not asked about. The documents he'd posted to James he kept quiet about. He'd find out what they signified and use that information for his benefit. Alex was used to being treated like a mushroom, it was strange that he knew more about the strange goings on in Tours than the Debriefing team. Not that they were going to enlighten him why a senior field agent was there. The doctor had come in and declared Alex, exhausted and any further questions would have to wait until he had been declared fit. So, it sounded like Harry had put his foot down. Soldiers health and well bing first and foremost.

Alex had been shown to an examination room and had fallen asleep on the examination couch. He woke to find himself in a hospital bed, in a gown and a nurse sat in clear view.

"Good morning Mr. Rider. You have been asleep for fourteen hours and the doctor will be along to examine you after you've eaten."

Alex was expecting the usual vile hospital food, but he was served fruit salad and a cream cheese bagel. Not standard NHS fare. The he remembered he was a guest at spook central in London.

The doc came in and Alex grinned as Major Pritchard in full Army Uniform came in and sat down.

"Morning Cub. Had a nice hiliday in France? Harry said accommodations and food inproved when you joined them. So, how frazzled are you?"

"I did not sleep much, but I had practically nothing to go on. Harry had just disappeared one night. No one knew anything. I got a bit desparete and actually broke into where he'd been working. There was only some burnt files. I found a partial address and got him and the Commander out."

"Commander?"

"You know James Bond, our other passenger." Alex smirked as he said this.

"So, Alex. Do you feel better for a bit of rest?"

"Yeah. I was, you know, a bit... like I was two years ago."

"Umm, want to hurt yourself? Self-medicate?"

"Well, yes. I had a bit of an episode a few weeks ago. Tom and Harry helped me sober up. I've been to a couple of meetings, AA meetings, since. I think I have a problem.. I'm not an alcoholic. I just drink when things get a bit much." Alex cringed. Harry would be telling him about denial being a river in Egypt.

"So, bumpy few weeks but no problems in France? You kept focussed. Got the job at hand done. Only felt out of control after you all were safe." The doctor had hid the nail on the head

"Yeah, I felt complete, in control. I feel like I'm always second guessing my decisions and my behaviour normally. Just another indication I'm still nutty as a fruitcake?"

"No, it means you were coping in a high stress environment."

Alex mused on this. "Nothing bad happened. It was cool."

The doctor smiled, "So Margo got you to chase after Harry."

"Yeah. I have to admit I thought it was strange how Harry had left my details with her."

"You are a singularly resourceful individual. I would guess you have more field experience than most of the agent's currently working for MI6 special operations. You make connections, follow hunches and bend the rules when needed".

Alex was suddenly angry, the familiar feeling when thinking of Ian, Blunt and Jones. "I don't want to be the thing Ian wanted me to be. I want to be Alex. I want to be a normal 18 year old, but I have to deal with all the shit I lived through."

"You do deal. You cope. You don't have to second guess yourself all the time. Just be yourself, its still you no matter what the situation." The doctor echoing the words of the therapist at Cedar Woods Clinic three years previously.

"You know, I don't trust myself. I don't like the person I was three years ago. The person everyone admires. I feel a failure. At a basic level I'm still in limbo. I know I need to start trusting people. I trust you and Harry, Tom, Marius, Blythe and James. I just can't seem to open up to anyone else." Alex lay back in bed and looked at the boring white ceiling.

"You opened up to me.. to Blythe and Marius. I know its hard, but you've left the comfort of school. So what caused your blip last month?" The doctor had asked the one thing Alex wanted him to avoid.

"Oh I went into the Bank to ask about Ian's stuff and the rental money from his house. It paid for my schooling. I just wanted to see if it was still available. I got the usual its locked until I'm 21 come back then. I'm swatting at Tom's place. Its awkward to say the least. I want a place of my own. Harry said if talking to those people upsets me I should just manage without the money. Sound advice." They'd promised to get back in touch but Alex was not surprised he'd heard nothing.

"So, they control your legacy from your uncle?"

"Yeah, Edward had to go in to get them to play for my 2 years at school in Cornwall." Alex then looked around. "So whats the deal here? Can I go home now I've answered all their questions."

"I think they just have a few loose ends then you can go back to hang out with your friend Tom." The Doc smiled and went to talk to the stern nurse.

Major Pritchard gave a brief description of his observations of Alex during their short talk this morning. Alex had been relaxed but the doctor knew his unofficial patient would talk to him more fully when they were both alone and not in danger of being overheard. The psychiatrist was then dismissed from the meeting, whatever Alex and Harry had stumbled across in France was of interest to several agencies, not just the British Secret Intelligence Service.

Gerald Mallory was the current Head of Special Operations of MI6, still based at Liverpool Street, separate from the rest of the Headquarters of SIS at Albert Wharf, Vauxhall. He was a bit perplexed at why he had been invited to the meeting. This Operation was directly under the control of Sir Charles and his specialist team of agents, answerable only to him and Her Majesty's Government.

Mallory had been a Colonel in the Paras after three tours with the SAS in the early 1980's, he'd been Civil Servant for five years before being promoted to take over at Liverpool Street from Mrs Jones. He looked at the photo of Alex Rider and the kid looked familiar. He'd been in post two years, overseeing a stricter, less laisse faire set up run by Alan Blunt since the late seventies. Then he remembered the boy agent. The eighteen year old 'ex-agent' was Blunt's wunderkind. The reason for the clear out of staff at the 'Royal and General'. There had been a query concerning the file but it was not priority.

Mallory then tried to connect Sergeant Dixon, Agent Galitsin and this Alex Rider.

Sir Charles waited for the meeting to end, he had requested Mallory's presence to clear the air before he cut Rider loose again.

"So, Gerald. I really need to get the Rider situation cut and dried. The kid is technically homeless after leaving school. He states the Bank have fobbed of his enquiries re his father's and uncle's estates. Blunt screwed this boy over. I do hope you're not following suit." The head of SIS looked thoughtfully over his notes before waiting for his colleague to answer.

"Rider's file was requested by a junior in personnel last month. The request was denied. I was told to sweep Blunt's bit of child endangerment under the carpet and to forget it ever happened by your predecessor. I'm still following those order's, Sir."

The man smiled "Alex Rider was decorated by the Russian's in February over the Sarov incident. The Americans, French and Indians followed suit wanting to thank Alex for his hard work and bravery. The PM added the George Cross to cover Alex's fine work over Invisible Sword. I thought that was the end of it, but our operation in Tours went very wrong. Galitsin was missing presumed dead when Alex rescued him and his ex-Sergeant. It seems unlike you the SAS have been keeping tabs on Alex. Helping him out. I'm not sure what Mrs Jones was ordered to do but Alex Rider is back in the business and I want him to look on us favourably not as a bunch of child abusing thieves. Sort out his uncle's estate. I want that boy kept happy. I may even offer him employment.."

At this Mallory cut in "Rider is mentally unstable."

"No, Colonel, Rider undertook a search operation with no backup and damn near no clues and recovered our agent. From what I can gather our debriefing team have done a piss poor job of getting answers from him. I will offer Alex a carrot, I guess he might have an idea why our two Russian's were killed. We will have to be open with him from now on. An agent trained from childhood. Alex will never be a team player but there is always room for mavericks."

Mallory knew just what Mavericks were used for. Mostly tracking down moles and dealing with internal affairs, ones that never made the official files. Word of mouth dealings with cash payments. Even more dirty than Special Operations.

Sir Charles continued "I've already decided to employ Sergeant Dixon in Logistics. The man knows far too much to let loose freelance. Alex Rider may come in, but I'll give him space to settle down, do his degree in Russian though I may suggest he takes Arabic as well."


	13. Chapter 13

Alex was shown into a reception area, in actuality a small office which acted as a screening area for all who came to see the big bad boss of spook central. The woman on the desk had smiled at his scowling face and sullen demeanor. Alex caught his reflection and had to admit he looked the part of the disaffected teenage rebel. All he wanted was a nice long rest at the moment and if he had to book into a hotel to get it he would.

"Sir Charles will see you now." and the door clicked as a lock was released.

The office was large and spacious with wood paneling and antique furniture. Only the large tinted windows with a view of the Thames and Vauxhall Bridge showed this was a modern building. He was so close to home and yet so far. Then he checked himself, home was a thing of the past and the future. Hopefully the near future.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rider. I must say I never expected you to cross our paths again. I was given the impression from our colleagues in America you were not operational material anymore. Major Pritchard was very impressed with you overall health and demeanor."

Alex sighed at such a direct appraisal of his abilities and the fact he coped very well in France, on the surface. Alex knew he had things to talk to the doc about but that would be private, just as a doctor/patient relationship should ideally be. "The Doc's been a brick over the past two years. He has always there to answer my questions and discuss my worries. I even visited him twice after school got a bit much. He and Harry are friends. I only went to Tours to get Harry out of the pickle he was in. I had no other reasons. I only took the Commander with me cause Harry insisted." Alex said in all honesty. Maybe if he was open, the spooks would be

"Umm, pickle." The older man smiled at Alex's choice of word. "The Russians are aware of our agent in France and have requested answers. I was hoping you might join a conference to clear up a few details. The two Russians who were holding Harry and my agent have turned up dead and we have no idea why or who did it."

"It wasn't me!" Alex blurted out.

"We know it wasn't you. The two gentlemen were found yesterday in Toulouse. In fact,the authorities in France have no idea of your breaking and entering, car theft, destruction of property etc in Tours. You are not facing charges. In fact we visited the unit and found it cleaned and with no sign anyone had even been there. Even the fence you cut through had been repaired. All very professional." The boss then made a decision to be open or as open as he was with any of his agents to young Alex. "The whole operation centres on Marek Sukovski, who owns a couple of football clubs in Russia, as well as a 40% stake in Siberian Gas and Oil Congolmerate. We became aware he was being blackmailed and at that point I sent an agent in to snoop. He disappeared. I have more important fish to fry, so I did not follow it up at the time, thinking Agent Galitsin was already dead."

"So thats the Commander's name. I witnessed the exchange of documents, no money or gold." Alex mused on what he had seen. He really did not want to know the bigger picture, just incase they dragged him along for the ride.

"Documents? Could you describe them or recognize them again?"

"Sure." Alex motioned the rough size with his hands and continued to describe his contraband. "This big, heavy paper or parchment. Embossed, blue, red and gold with lots of squiggly writing. Looked very legal."

Sir Charles was already aware several million dollars in Bearer bonds had been extorted from Galitsin. The documents as good as cash, and completely untraceable. "The Russian Government is offering a large reward for the return of these documents, a very large reward."

Alex pondered this "It wasn't a kidnapping, was it?" He was suddenly afraid his actions had put someone in danger.

"No, oh no. From what the Federal Russian Authorities have stated it was all very dirty and Sukovski is now in custody facing charges over environmental damage to a State Park, the bribing of Public officials and tax evasion. The Bonds are legally the property of the Russian State. Its all very convoluted but most fraud cases are." That was a very brief description of a case that was very damaging for the present administration in Russia. It was likely Sukovski would name names and many rich and influential people would be running for cover.

"Right, OK. I'll answer some questions, if only to improve my conversational Russian." Alex mumbled.

"Good man." said the spymaster general.

Andrei Dubrev was shown into the conference room in a concrete government office block off Whitehall. He had never seen into the Medieval Palace. All the rooms he'd seen were the same grey or beige bland decor. This was neutral ground, everyone pretending he was a senior diplomatic aide, no one mentioned he was a senior espionage officer. Today he hoped to get some answers from his British counterparts. One of their agents had stumbled over a Russian Mafia operation. It had the potential to be very embarassing.

Dubrev remained stoic and grim faced as the four men and a secretary arrived for the meeting. He greeted four with cold politemess then recognised the young man who was standing back, anxious and reluctant.

"Good Afternoon, Aleksander." He stated in russian. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"No more so than myself. Harry and I are accidentally involved. My talent for walking into dubious situations has been passed to Harry. I just went to drag him back to Huddersfield."

"So you do not work for Sir Charles?"

"No I was working for Harry's sister, Margo." Alex's mouth twitched as he said this.

"So you are freelance now?"

"Oh yes, very much my own boss." Alex said this looking straight at Sir Charles Fellows. He would not be drawn back to work for SIS.

The meeting was very matter of fact. The British could not add any significant details to the case. The bonds were missing. Dubrev concluded some faction of the Russian mafia had intercepted the Bonds. It was a major loss of face. Very embarassing.

Alex was handed the keys to his Landrover. Harry had some business to sort out with the agency. It sounded like Harry had been offered a job by Sir Charles. Alex did not ask, not wanting to know. Alex had been offered financial compensation and had given Harry Margo's money back. Obviously giving Alex the two grand he's asked plus expenses was small fry in the long run. He'd had to fill in a dozen horredous forms but was now classed as an official "sub-contractor". Sir Charles had even hinted they may send some other off the record work his way.

Alex phoned Tom after he parked up in his rented garage in Vauxhall, as usual Tom's phone went straight through to leave a message. Tom never answered. Alex sometimes wondered why he had a mobile. "Hi Tom, its Alex. I'm OK. Tired but Harry's in great shape and going to stay with his sister. I'm off for some R & R. I'll ring again tomorrow."

Alex went straight to Waterloo and onto the Eurostar. In Paris he bought a ticket to Dusseldorf. He did not go straight to James' home, but booked a hotel. He would rest before crossing Dieter Sprintz path, knowing his package would have caused major ructions in the Sprintz household. Posting a large amount of very hot Bearer Bonds to James was possibly not the best idea he had ever had.


End file.
